Lucky
by AllusionToAnIllusion
Summary: As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest man on earth.


**I have to say, I love Captain Montgomery. His background, personality, role in the precinct, I think it could all be so fun to play with. So I finally wrote something for him, about him. And I'm sure there are more Montgomery stories to come. **

**For those of you waiting on an update for Kamikaze, you'll probably get one either tonight or tomorrow. I'm not promising anything, but it's definitely likely. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, these characters just inspire me to write. **

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I am one of the lucky ones.

One of those people who against all odds get what they really want out of life. When professionals said it wasn't possible, when those close to me skirted around the subject, I didn't lose hope. I always carried it around with me, a mere wish I hoped one day would come true. And it did, after years and years of holding onto the fleeting hope I've finally been rewarded for my faith that the universe would sort itself out at some point.

It started years ago, when I was just a rookie. A uniform fresh out of the academy that didn't really know how to handle the real world. I was still trying to figure it all out. Still a kid, still just an immature child trapped in a man's body. I'd seen things that shaped my view of the world, experienced stuff that I'll never forget. But at heart, I was only a child.

I'd called for backup when I heard the shots, but was too impatient to wait. As I heard a woman's screams radiating from the abandoned building I couldn't wait anymore, I had to get to her, I had to help. To most it would sound heroic, but to any experienced cop, it would just sound stupid. It was dark, black enveloping every corner of every room, I followed the screams until I saw light peeking out from under a door.

Cold, piercing laughter emanating from the room as screams grew louder and louder. I remember the shutter that ran up my spine; that still does every time I recount the memory, each time I hear the mix of those sounds. Forgetting protocol, not caring about how this would look to my superiors, the consequences that would undoubtedly be the result of this stunt, I kicked down the door and made a mad dash for a crate not far from the doorway.

I couldn't see much from behind the crate, I could only hear. The panicked shuffling of feet, my loud breathing, the deafening beat of my heart and a woman's cries for help ringing in my ears. At least I think they were for help, she was speaking in Spanish so I couldn't understand the words. But that desperate pleading her tone had taken on, anybody could understand that.

Peeking out from behind the crate, I tried to find the attacker. Setting eyes on him, I took aim. And right before my finger tightened on the trigger, that's when I heard it, the crack of a bullet making its way out of the barrel of a gun. Hot, searing pain, that was all I could feel. And suddenly a deeper voice joined the symphony of screaming, it was only later that I realized it had been me.

Someone, I assumed it was the man who had shot me, quickly ran out of the door and vanished into the darkness. Seconds later, or maybe hours I'll never be sure, the Hispanic woman was over me. Somehow she found my phone and dialed 911, all the while thanking me profusely. She stayed with me until the ambulance and fellow officers could be heard outside, when the sirens rang out she kissed my cheek, managed another gracias through labored breathing and then she was gone. I can only assume now she was illegal, afraid of what would happen if the cops found her out.

I'd been shot before, this was not my first time dealing with something like that, but this was the bullet that changed everything. When the doctors, standing solemnly fiddling with their clipboards, told me I wouldn't be able to have children everything was different. I wouldn't have little kids of my own someday. I'd always had two dreams in life. To be a cop, so I could save people's lives, and to have a family of my own. I'd grown up on the streets with cops who didn't really give a damn about what happened to us, a broken family my only sanctuary from the what happened out there. My family wasn't one of comfort, of hope. I wanted my family's life to be different, I wanted a family so I could show them, and show myself, that even though the world was cruel, a family didn't have to be. And these people, clad in white coats, were telling me I couldn't have that.

Well, I've proved them wrong. I do have a family; bunches and bunches of children running around my home. It may not be a conventional home, or even a conventional family, but that's what it is. People who comfort each other, who'll be there for each other no matter what, who protect each other from the world, that's what we are. They may not actually be my children, but I still think of myself as their father.

Karpowski is the middle child, still trying to figure out where exactly she belongs in all of this. Esposito and Ryan are the youngest, twin brothers who pester their eldest sister incessantly. Their oldest sister of course being Beckett, with a stubborn streak a mile wide I'll never completely get her under control. She has scars, too many of them to count, but I'll forever admire her for not losing herself, for still being able to laugh.

And then there's Castle, I'm not exactly sure what to make of him. He's not exactly my son, at least not yet, but I'm sure nobody knows what to make of this man who without warning thrust himself into our little family. He's the guy who brings fun into Beckett's world; who makes her forget about her scars for a while and just allows her to live. She doesn't yet realize what he is to her, but I have hope that one day soon she'll see it.

I've always had a defiant streak in me, and that part of me is elated that I proved those doctors from so many years ago wrong. I do have a family, have children of my own. It may not be the way they expected me to conquer the odds, it definitely wasn't what I imagined, but that's beside the point. It's been done, I've been granted a family that I'll always love. We may be slightly dysfunctional, a bit eccentric, but I can't deny that I'm lucky, lucky beyond all belief.

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**Okay, so this is the first time I've written from Montgomery's point of view, or written any story that doesn't center on Castle and Beckett. Wanna tell me how I did? Should I stick to Castle and Beckett or would you like more Montgomery stuff too? **


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